


Near-life experience

by Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2020 (Part One!) [16]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Blood and Gore, Car Accidents, Flashbacks, Gen, Heck I need to title this, I can't remember any other warnings I will update the tags as soon as I get my brain in order, Mary Oliver's like the only poet I've ever read? I will properly credit when I can, Okay I've got a title I think it's from a poem, Surgery, This one gets kinda dark I think?, Too tired to write out the tags but they're all nonbinary lol Ghoul is hoh Kobra is semiverbal, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:35:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25852216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth/pseuds/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth
Summary: If we crash this car, we've got machines to keep us alive
Relationships: Fun Ghoul & Jet Star & Kobra Kid & Motorbaby & Party Poison (Danger Days)
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2020 (Part One!) [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767937
Comments: 15
Kudos: 18





	Near-life experience

The car crashes. Because, of course it has to. The Witch doesn't look kindly on Fun Ghoul, never has and never will. Fun Ghoul used to say they could live with it. But now they're pinned in the passenger seat, blood streaming down their face as Poison leans out the side window (now technically the roof, since the car flipped), barely managing to fire off shots in the direction of the Dracs that have hunted them down.  
"You okay? Ghoul?" No answer. Fun Ghoul's conscious, barely, and their vision is painted red from the blood dripping into their eyes-- a cut across their forehead, probably. They'd slammed straight though the passenger side window, busting out the glass with their head. It had been kinda pretty, actually. Ghoul closes their eyes. 

"Hey! Bastard! Wake up!" Party Poison slaps Ghoul across the face, then frowns. Is that okay to do? It's probably not gonna hurt them much more. Hopefully. Poison slaps them again, then curses. They shouldn't've done that. Or maybe it was the right thing to do, because Ghoul's eyes blink open. "Oh, thank the motherfucking Phoenix Witch."  
"What?" Ghoul rasps, then coughs. Blood sprays from their mouth, shocking both of them. "Shit." And Ghoul's coughing again, harder, more blood spattering onto their shirt, Poison's face. Ghoul squeezes their eyes shut, not wanting to see their own blood.  
"Okay. Okay, this is gonna be okay. I, um, I was gonna try to move you, get you outta the car, but that's probably not a good idea? Shit. I radioed D, he and Cola're on their way in the van, holy shit, you're coughing up blood, what are you even supposed to-- how do you feel? Do you feel alright? Are you in pain?" Ghoul gestures to their ears, eyes still closed, and Poison realizes they can't understand him. "Fuck, okay. I'm just gonna, uh..." Ghoul is laying sideways on the inside door of the Trans Am, legs still pinned under the dashboard. Poison takes off his jacket and folds it up underneath their head. Small comfort. Ghoul twitches, shaking, and leans to the side, vomiting. It's stained dark crimson, and Poison curses again. That means internal bleeding, or some shit. Ghoul moans in pain and fear, and Poison reaches out a hand, resting it on their shoulder. Ghoul grabs it in both of theirs, holding tight.  
"'M scared, Poison."  
"It'll be okay." The words are a whisper, though, and Poison realizes Ghoul can't hear them. So they hum instead, loud enough for Ghoul to hear, no words they might struggle to decipher. Ghoul's expression smooths somewhat, as they cling to Poison's hand like a lifeline.  
"Tell the oth--" Ghoul breaks off to cough again, spraying droplets of blood across the Trans Am. "--Tell the others I love them, if I don't..." Poison's words of reassurance stick in his throat. 

Doctor Death-Defying is _not_ a safe driver. He pulls up in a cloud of dust beside the wreckage of the Trans Am, and Poison flinches. Cherri Cola rushes over to them before the van's even stopped moving, holding some metal apparatus he uses to pry Fun Ghoul out of the car, hauling them through the driver's-side window. Ghoul screams, and then blacks out, and then comes back again screaming, trying their hardest to twist away from Cherri and Poison's grip, curling over their stomach protectively. The two of them haul Ghoul to the van, laying them across the row of seats, and Cherri's already found the four inches of jagged metal stuck just below Fun Ghoul's ribs as Dr. D rushes to the diner, closer than the radio station. Poison grabs a bottle of pills-- painkillers-- from the medkit, handing one to a half-conscious Ghoul, when Cherri sticks an arm out, stopping them.  
"Don't give them anything to eat or drink. Not yet." Poison nods.  
"What do you need?"  
"We gotta give them stitches. Prepare a needle and thread for me?" Cherri gestures briefly with his less-coordinated prosthetic hand as explanation. Poison nods, struggling to thread the needle in the still-moving van. He finishes just as Cherri needs it, bits of bloody metal discarded on the floor. "It's gonna be okay." 

The van reaches the diner before Cherri's done tending to Ghoul, Poison hovering anxiously in the background, until Dr. D tells them, not unkindly, to make themself useful by getting D's wheelchair from the back of the van, or to go update Jet Star and the Kobra Kid themself. Poison jumps up, startled, and begins unloading D's wheelchair. The Girl has, by now, seen the van, and is heading out to greet her visitors. Poison tries to intercept her, but she's already popped her head in through the van door. Dr. D reaches out, tries to stop her, but she's already stock-still, staring at Fun Ghoul, limp and bloody in the van. She turns around and walks, slowly, back to the diner, where Kobra lifts her up into a hug, confused but knowing she needs comfort. She's getting too big to be picked up, but Kobra does it anyways, balancing her on their hip as they run a hand over her back. 

They bring Fun Ghoul inside, in solemn silence, once Cherri Cola says they're okay to be moved. They're still passed out, and Poison and Jet Star carry them to the back room, laying them down on the mattress. They're still covered in their own blood, but the mattress is far from pristine, and nobody minds a few more bloodstains so long as it'll help their crewmate be even a little more comfortable. Ghoul sleeps, and Jet Star stays with them, sending Party Poison back out to the front to get checked for injuries of their own. 

It's a long time until Fun Ghoul wakes, but that doesn't mean their sleep is uninterrupted or peaceful. They whisper incoherent pleas for help, call names-- city names-- Jet Star doesn't recognize, and thrash about. Jet Star tries to hold them down, afraid they'll reopen their wounds. The Kobra Kid takes over from Jet Star, then Dr. D and Cherri Cola take a turn together, speaking in hushed whispers as they watch over Fun Ghoul. Party Poison sleeps on the couch, exhausted, and the Girl does her best to pretend she's not upset. Eventually, Jet Star takes another turn watching Ghoul, and as D rolls into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water, he finds the Girl, huddled inside a cabinet, door hanging open just enough to give her position away.  
"Hey there, The-Girl. You okay?" She wiggles further into the cabinet on instinct, crashing sounds an a surprised squeak emerging from the cabinet. She pokes her head out, looking sheepish. "Here, come out-- it doesn't matter whatever you knocked down in there, we'll get that later-- come on out, okay?" She does, wiggling down onto the counter to sit cross-legged, looking at D. "So what's up, hm?"  
"Ghoul." D nods.  
"Must've been scary, seeing them like that."  
"It was. I thought they were dead."  
"It looked bad for a while there, didn't it? Ghoul's tougher than that, though." It's the Girl's turn to nod, chewing on her nails.  
"No matter how much it happens, how much any of them get hurt, I still..." She trails off, not meeting D's eyes. D wheels back to what functions as a pantry, pulling out a can of soda for her, letting her take her time to get her thoughts out. "I still don't like it. It's scary. And I should be used to it, 'cause it happens a lot, but I think that just makes it worse." D smiles sympathetically.  
"You said that really well. And it will get easier, or at least you'll adjust to it. Your choice whether that's a good or bad thing." The Girl makes a face.  
"Oh."  
"Come on out to the living room with me? Kobra was saying you've done some pretty neat new drawings, I was wondering if you'd show me." She nods, knowing he's trying to distract her, but accepting the distraction.

And finally, Ghoul wakes up, silently. Jet Star is asleep in a chair by the bed, and Ghoul tries to sit up, slip past him silently. They don't make it to the sitting up stage, slumping back down with a gasp of pain. Jet Star doesn't wake up, exhausted from watching and worrying over them. Fun Ghoul lies in bed a bit longer, before trying again. They don't know what they want, what they need, other than to not be lying here in bed. It's stifling. They feel trapped. They need to get up. And so this time, through gritted teeth, they manage to prop themself up, sitting leaning against the wall of the back room. They catch their breath, wait for the waves of pain to subside, and try to get their legs under them. And they're wobbly, unsteady, but they stand, leaning against the wall. Jet Star sleeps through it all, barely stirring as Ghoul passes him. Ghoul is far from quiet, but if any of the others hear them, they must assume it's someone else, restless in the night.

The bathroom is the room closest to the back, so it's where Ghoul ends up, leaning heavily on the sink to support their weight as they try again to catch their breath. They look in the mirror, skin ashen and clammy, face and torn clothes streaked with blood. They try to move, to sit on the edge of the bathtub while they catch their breath (why is it taking so long?), and they fall instead, blacking out before they hit the ground. Nobody hears them, nobody finds them for _hours_.

Kobra stumbles into the bathroom just after sunrise, toothbrush in hand. He drops it, though, when he sees Ghoul, bleeding on the bathroom floor. The toothbrush falls into Ghoul's blood, and Kobra wants to vomit. Instead, they scream, calling for their brother, calling Poison to come fix this. Poison comes running, and they bring a hand up to cover their mouth, running back away to get Cherri, to get anyone, really, who will help. Kobra crouches down beside Ghoul, checking to see if they're breathing. They are, barely, and their mouth is leaking blood again. Kobra curses, hoping they just bit their tongue when they fell.

Party Poison comes back, face grim, and says D and Cherri are waiting in the van to take Ghoul to the closest hospital. Kobra nods, helping him lift Ghoul up, and carry them to the van where Cherri's ready to hold Ghoul together again, keep them alive until they reach the hospital. Or until he can't anymore. Cherri pulls out a knife and cuts away the shirt they'd changed Ghoul into last night, and curses. More of their stitches have ripped than not, and their chest is a bloody, swollen mess. Kobra does vomit, splattering the already-bloody floor of the van. Cherri curses, hissing something about hygiene and keeping the area clean, and Poison points Kobra to the second row of seats, where they lay down. Poison begins cleaning up around Ghoul, though he's not sure what help it will really do. 

D pulls up outside the hospital building, and Kobra has to pull himself together long enough to help Poison carry Ghoul inside, where a pair of medics take them away, leaving the others to wait. The building had once been a school, and there are various chairs and desks scattered around the room for visitors to sit in. Poison slumps over a desk while Kobra heads off to find some water. D and Cherri join Poison soon after, Cherri still dripping Fun Ghoul's blood onto the beige tile floors.  
"They're going to be okay." Poison doesn't sound sure. Nobody replies, not wanting to confirm or deny, no matter what they think. Kobra comes back, expression vacant, and they pull a chair over to join the others. He sits staring at the ground, and the others pretend not to see his hands shake. Poison feels bad ignoring Kobra like that, and really, what can they do or say? The images of Ghoul crumpled and bloody on the bathroom floor, in D's van, in the wreckage of the Trans Am weigh heavy in Poison's mind, and they hate it. They shake their head, wanting to dislodge the thoughts. D looks at them, worried, and Poison looks away. Cherri's humming something under his breath, voice high and strained as if he's trying not to cry. Kobra gets up and walks off again. Poison buries their head in their arms. They can hear the _whirr_ of D's motor as he heads after Kobra. Poison doesn't look up.

"I'm sorry." Cherri's voice is hoarse as he speaks for the first time in hours. Party Poison doesn't hear him, lost in his thoughts. "I'm sorry, Poison." Now, they hear him, looking up with a question in his eyes. "I-- What if I--"  
"Not your fault." Poison wants to cry. "You tried your best, and, I... I would never blame you if Ghoul dies." Cherri nods, eyes red. "I just can't believe... It should have been a simple run."  
"That's what we always say about the ones that go wrong, hmm?"  
"Yeah. Too arrogant, I guess, or too hopeful. But they shouldn't have got hurt, or at least, I should've got hurt, too. I was the one who lost control of the car, I was the one driving." Cherri doesn't answer in words, instead pulling Party Poison gently into his lap, giving him plenty opportunity to pull away. "I don't even know what happened, I guess. I crashed, I know that, there were Dracs after us, and I was trying to get away, and then we're ten feet in the air, and then the car's on it's side and Ghoul's saying what they think is their last words. Fuck! They may well have been their last words."  
"It's not your fault." Poison shakes their head, tears falling from their eyes.  
"Doesn't really matter, does it? I can't even remember what they . It was about telling the others they love them, and stuff, but I don't remember, not exactly. And I didn't even-- didn't even tell the others, tell you. It's all they asked me to do, and I-"  
"Poison, it's gonna be oka-- Just take a few breaths, okay? Just breathe, and calm down. It's no use getting all..." Cherri gestures vaguely. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to say." Poison nods, breathing more slowly. "You don't have to. Know what to say, I mean. I don't think anyone does, right now."  
"Yeah, but, I... Thank you, Poison." The two of them sit together a while in silence. Eventually, Kobra and D rejoin them, equally quiet and downcast. 

A tall, serious-looking person in medics' gear approaches the four of them. Poison looks up without much interest.  
"Yeah?"  
"Family of Fun Ghoul?" Poison sits up, as do the others.  
"Yes, I, uh--"  
"Are they going to be okay?" It's Cherri who speaks, uncharacteristically hesitant, voice breaking over 'okay'. He clears his throat, looks down. The medic sighs.  
"They're stable. That's all we know."  
"Is that good or bad, then?" Poison wants to scream. They're not sure why.  
"They're not likely to die, which is a good thing, I'd assume. We're not yet sure of anything beyond that, which is a bad thing." Poison groans.  
"Well, why don't you know?" D puts a hand on Poison's arm, both as comfort and a warning. The medic sighs again.  
"Because medicine is imprecise. Because we're living out in the desert without any of the advanced tools they have in the city. Because we have to make do with what we have, and by the Witch, we're trying everything we can to save your sibling's life, okay?" Poison's face scrunches up, first in anger, then trying to hold back tears. It doesn't work.  
"I know. I'm sorry, I just--" The medic kneels down beside Poison, resting a hand on their shoulder.  
"I promise. We're doing everything we can, and we'll let you know as soon as we know anything more, okay?" Poison doesn't respond.  
"Thank you, Dowdy. We'll take it from here." D addresses the medic with familiarity, and a warm smile. They return the smile, politely, but with a hint of genuine fondness, and take their leave. Kobra looks at D, a question on his face. "Senior Medic Dowdy is the best medic I know. If anyone can help Ghoul, it'll be them." Kobra nods, smiling faintly. Senior Medic Dowdy returns a few hours after. They get straight to the point, as the four watch them with bated breath.  
"We think they're going to make a full recovery." Cherri and Kobra smile at each other in relief, While Poison slumps back down into their chair, all the tension gone from his body.  
"Can we see them?" Dowdy purses their lips, considering.  
"One of you may come." Everyone moves to follow at the same time, ready to fight, to justify why they should be the one to see Ghoul. "Doctor Death-Defying will be first." Their expression doesn't leave room for disagreement. D smiles at the others, places a hand on Cherri's shoulder, before he's off, following Dowdy in companionable silence.

D's used to seeing their friends, family, comrades unconscious in hospital beds. He's used to watching people go to the Witch before their time. He's seen it all, in such a short time, relatively speaking. And he's still not prepared to see Ghoul. They're lying on a too-small mattress, in a private room, an old sheet tucked up around them. Their injuries aren't what disturbs D, horrific though they are, but the expression on Ghoul's face. They're awake, and they're _terrified_.  
"They woke up, just recently. They're not quite aware of what's happening, where they are, but we don't want to put them back to sleep, not if they don't pass out on their own. It could cause them to take a turn for the worse." D nods.  
"Can I-- is it okay if I hold their hand?" Dowdy frowns.  
"Not yet. We don't want to jostle the IVs, or make them more uncomfortable. They wouldn't recognize you, either."  
"Okay. Thank you." D sits beside Ghoul, watching over them until Dowdy tells him it's time to go. Ghoul doesn't react the whole time, hardly blinking, breath shallow. "See you soon," D whispers as he leaves, and he hopes he'll get to see them again at all. Dowdy stays with Ghoul, checking over what scarce, outdated monitors are in the room. D doesn't tell the other three how awful it was, seeing Ghoul.

Jet Star shows up at the hospital in a panic. She'd been left behind in the rush, and she'd radioed Show Pony to come take care of the Girl while she hitchhiked to the hospital, furious at being left behind.  
"You left me! I didn't know what was happening, if Ghoul was okay or not-- what if they weren't okay, and I was back at the diner, what if I didn't get the chance to say goodbye?"  
"I'm sorry." Poison frowns. "That was wrong. But you should have woken up before they got hurt!"  
"I-- _what_? I don't even know what happened! Only that I woke up to you guys leaving in a rush, a giant pool of blood in the bathroom and all over the mattress! I had to radio every hospital from here to Zone One just to find you!" Poison is ready to retort, but Kobra stops him, a hand on his arm, before signing,  
"Mattress?" Poison's face goes slack. Had they still been bleeding before they fell?  
"Shit." Poison sits down. "We're so _fucking_ bad at this, they would have fucking bled to death regardless-- _Fuck_!" Kobra sits down beside them, offering them a hug. Poison stands up and storms away, arms crossed. Nobody goes after them, and they end up leaning against a vending machine at the closest Dead Pegasus, nails digging little holes in the skin of their arms, their face. He can't get it out of his _head_ , thoughts of finding Ghoul cold and bloodless on the mattress in the back room, watching Ghoul cough up blood and die in the back of the news van, of a million things that could have gone wrong, a million ways Ghoul could have died. And it's Poison's fault. It's Poison who crashed the car, Poison who couldn't do anything to help, Poison who didn't notice Ghoul was bleeding out. Or something. Their brain's running on empty, and it's not long until the looping thoughts fade into static, Poison staring straight ahead at the desert as they tear away at their arms. The sun goes down, and they're still sitting there. They blink back into focus a few times, then frown. Why hadn't anyone come after him? They blamed him, probably. Or something was wrong. Shit, something was wrong. What if Ghoul had died, had issues? And the others were too focused on that to come get Poison? Or they thought he didn't deserve to be told, since it was their fault in the first place, since they'd been just _awful_ to Jet. Shit. Ghoul was dead, and Poison was never going to see them again, all because they just _had to_ take out their anger on Jet Star. They wouldn't have deserved to see Ghoul, anyways, not after that. Poison doesn't want to go back, not now, not to see the looks on their family's faces as they break the news to him that Ghoul had died while he'd been gone. He can't go back, not to that. So they sit still against the vending machine, staring out into the desert. They haven't moved in hours, and they feel it in their joints, but they can't move. Not when Ghoul's dead, not when it's their fault, not when moving will bring them back to reality where _Ghoul is dead_. They don't want to think about it. Then they do move, slamming their head back against the side of the vending machine, and the burst of pain is enough to knock the racing thoughts from their mind as they bring their hands up to the back of their head. They do it again, and then again, and the before sliding all of the beads, and the string, into the mailbox. They don't make a sound when (if) they hit the hard metal bottom. Kobra takes a deep breath, and begins to sign, first slowly, fingers stumbling over words as he tells the Witch about Fun Ghoul, tells Her the good and bad and insignificant, tells Her things they never got the chance to tell Ghoul, things they'd never tell Ghoul. He tells her all of it, hands moving quick, flowing from one story to another by the time he's done. 

He doesn't feel lighter, or anything, doesn't experience any sort of catharsis for speaking his thoughts. But he hopes he's done something, hopes he's offered up the Witch good reason to bring Fun Ghoul back. He's not pleased, though, with the thought of the Witch needing some reason to let Ghoul back, some reason other than the very nature of their existence. He stands up, hands in his pockets, and walks alone underneath the night sky for a bit, letting his thoughts settle down and sift through his mind. He's tired by the time he gets back to the Hospital, and he sleeps well for the first time in a while. 

Jet Star is angry. Angry at being left behind, angry at Poison's words, angry at them and Fun Ghoul for going off and crashing the Trans Am and getting hurt in the first place. Eir angry that ey couldn't do anything to help. Eir angry that ey let Fun Ghoul slip past them. Eir angry at the Witch for letting all of this happen. How could She let this happen? Jet Star doesn't pray to Her for guidance. Ey don't want to think about Her right now. Instead, ey sit still in eir uncomfortable waiting room chair, flipping aimlessly through magazines as ey wait for news. Eir the only one who doesn't visit Fun Ghoul, not wanting to see em so hurt, so near death. Ey stand up, shoving eir magazine to the ground, fists clenched, wanting to _do something_ , and ey sit back down. There's nothing ey can do. So ey wait. 

Party Poison drifts in and out of being fully present. Some times they're not quite sure if Ghoul's dead or not, not quite sure why Ghoul's hurt in the first place (but it's Poison's fault, always Poison's fault). They don't ask the others about it, though, too afraid they'll just get mad. So Poison does his best to ignore everything, does his best to pretend nothing's wrong, even though he's sleeping on the floor of a hospital waiting room.

Fun Ghoul wakes up, fully, and the first thing they do is _scream_. It's not out of fear, not anymore, they know where they are now. They scream in pain, because they've been cut open from stomach to collarbone, their insides ripped apart and sewn back together. They scream because they're alone, and lost, and lonely. Medics come running, Kobra at their heels. Party Poison joins them soon after, dragging Jet Star by the wrist.  
"Help," they whisper, but they know nobody can, know they don't technically need help. They say it nonetheless. "Help."  
And Poison kneels down by the too-small mattress to hold their hand, and Kobra smiles faintly at them, even as he starts to cry, and Jet Star hovers in the doorway, eyes wide and uncertain, but _there_. Their family is there. And Fun Ghoul knows everything is going to be alright. 

Everything is going to be alright, but that doesn't mean it'll be alright soon. 

The Girl radios in to talk to Fun Ghoul, and they cry hearing her voice over the airwaves, and she cries because she misses them, and wants to come and visit. She does, soon, and the tall head medic looks a little nervous to have her around, but they'll get down on their knees to be level with her and explain what all the tubes and machines going in and out of Ghoul do, how they keep them alive. She watches, and learns, and repeats the information back to Kobra who gags and pushes her away, laughing, only exaggerating his disgust a bit. Ghoul watches fondly, and tells the Girl they'll be quizzing her later.  
"Where's your beads? The ones Ghoul gave you, I mean." The Girl points at Kobra's wrist, and he moves a hand to cover it, eyes wide.  
"Aw, you lost the beads I gave you? Don't think I'll _ever_ forgive you for this, Kobra." Ghoul smiles, and Kobra clears their throat, leaves the room. "Shit. I was joking, K!" Before Ghoul can say any more, Jet Star speaks up from where aer leaning in the corner.  
"He gave them to the Witch. Asked for your safe return." Ae follow Kobra out, leaving the others in uncomfortable silence.  
"That bad?" Ghoul's voice breaks a bit. "I never--"  
"You told me what to tell them if you didn't make it out," Poison interrupts, crossing the room to pick up the Girl. "We all thought you weren't gonna pull through, and then you went and got hurt again. It was real bad, Ghoul." The Girl meets their eyes and nods.  
"Fuck. I'm Sorry, I--"  
"It's not your _fault_ , Ghoul. Just-- We're real glad to have you back. It was bad." Poison's not looking up from the shiny beige floor.  
"I love you all. I'm sorry, I'll be more careful."  
"Careful has nothing to do with it. Shit." Poison sets the Girl down. "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to make you feel responsible, I'm so fucking bad at this. I'll go. I'm sorry." And Poison leaves as well. The Girl looks at Ghoul. Ghoul looks at the Girl. They shrug, and wince.  
"You gonna follow them out? I don't mind." They do mind, but don't want her to feel bad.  
"Nah. I missed you too much." She plops down onto the ground next to Ghoul's mattress.  
"I missed you too. I really missed you."

**Author's Note:**

> Hhhhey :)  
> Oh! Senior Medic Dowdy belongs to the amazing @always-and-forever-a-killjoy, SemperAeternumQue on here!  
> Leave a comment below, and come find me on tumblr @wishiwasthemoon-tonight!


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